An old tapestry, used for a curtain and fastened to a stick, hung before it in heavy folds.

Nothing in the room was picturesque, nothing brilliant; everything denoted rigorous simplicity, true heartiness, the ease of unconventional nature, and the habits of a domestic life which knew neither cares nor troubles.

Many a dwelling is like a dream, the sparkle of passing pleasure seems to hide some ruin beneath the cold smile of luxury; but this parlor, sublime in reality, harmonious in tone, diffused the patriarchal ideas of a full and self-contained existence.

The silence was unbroken save by the movements of the servant in the kitchen engaged in preparing the supper, and by the sizzling of the dried fish which she was frying in salt butter according to the custom of the country.
"Will you smoke a pipe ?" said the pastor, seizing a moment when he thought that Wilfrid might listen to him.
"Thank you, no, dear Monsieur Becker," replied the visitor.
"You seem to suffer more to-day than usual," said Minna, struck by the feeble tones of the stranger's voice.
"I am always so when I leave the chateau." Minna quivered.
"A strange being lives there, Monsieur Becker," he continued after a pause.

"For the six months that I have been in this village I have never yet dared to question you about her, and even now I do violence to my feelings in speaking of her.